


Do whatchu want to me

by FreeShavocadoo



Series: SWORD songfics [6]
Category: HiGH&LOW (Movies), HiGH&LOW: the Story of S.W.O.R.D. (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pining, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 05:53:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15454776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreeShavocadoo/pseuds/FreeShavocadoo
Summary: Brown pines for attention and Pho gives it to him.Inspired by the song: 'Do watchu want to me' by NoMBe.





	Do whatchu want to me

_Can I rub my face against your skin?_ __  
Can I make your breath my wind?  
Wanna hold your close to the very end,  
And sink or swim, within.

Watching Pho dance was like an out of body experience for Brown, watching this huge man move with such power and elegance, like all eyes in the club weren’t on him, breezing through every single emotion seamlessly. The music barely seemed to matter much as his movements always matched and Brown was always mesmerized by the way the strobe lights bounced off his skin as he moved, the way his entire body was completely in sync with every beat of the music. He’s unlike anyone else when he dances, Brown thinks. People like Jesse are brilliant movers, but he wants people to see and wants all eyes on him. Pho just gets everyone’s attention without trying and it only makes Brown want him more, having already found him beautiful in a confined setting, seeing him out in the open like this is something else entirely.

For Brown, fighting was his main outlet for everything he’d been through and also the solution to it all. There was a time when he was too concerned with other people’s opinions of what type of person he should be, having been flamboyant since he was younger. His parents had insisted he would grow out of it, that he’d find a woman to settle down with eventually, but once they’d realised that Brown only ever seemed to be running off with men they soon cut him off completely. A string of bad relationships with older manipulative men had taught Brown a lot more about the world and the way it worked than his parents had, Rasen had taught him plenty too. There were few people worth trusting in the world and you should keep them close. So he did.

 Trying to get Pho’s attention had always been hard, someone so soft deep down but hard to actually fully understand. Whilst Brown appreciated that Pho didn’t rush him and that he would never just go headfirst into anything without checking it was good for Brown first, that didn’t make Brown’s impatience any less evident, having always been someone who wants instant gratification. He supposes that some things are worth waiting for, but you shouldn’t have to wait if you want it _that_ much.

 

_Ooh, do whatchu whatchu whatchu want, do whatchu want to me._ _  
Ooh, do whatchu whatchu whatchu want, do whatchu want to me._

Brown doesn’t think he’s ever been with anyone quite as fulfilling as Pho, there was nobody who managed to perfectly combine that gentleness with such strength and power. He enjoyed being able to be the one to tell Pho what to do, to demand things without being told he’s too high maintenance and that he doesn’t deserve any of what he’s asking for. Pho barely has to be asked, always one to reciprocate and then give even more on top of that, staring at Brown with eyes so inviting it was like Brown was the stars to his moon, instead of being the lone wolf howling at one.

It was too easy to be intoxicated with it all, being picked up and kissed to the point of breathlessness, touched just enough and never too much. Where Brown is needy and wanting, Pho is more than willing to give, never content with leaving Brown to his self-depreciative thoughts. He tells him repeatedly he’s beautiful and never leaves his hands off Brown’s skin for one second, maintaining the contact like he needed it to breathe, to live. In this space, with Pho, Brown can close his eyes and feel those hands that are so capable of damage, so soft on his hips. The arms that can lift him up into the air without a bit of strain moving under Brown’s fingertips, hypnotic and enticing to the point where Brown barely knows what to focus on until Pho noses against his neck, kissing it gently and telling him that he’s perfect.

 

 _Can I taste your lips and smell your hair_ __  
As flavour fills the air?  
My fingertips they dance across  
Your back from coast to coast.  
And when I kiss I'll always tell,  
Make sure the world knows who you love the most.

It was impossible for Brown to ever leave the morning after, even if all of his defence mechanisms from his teenage years screamed to do so, Pho’s arms had never offered anything but security and comfort and Brown was happy to lie in them, drunk on the feeling. He let’s himself run his fingers over Pho’s arms, the muscles, following them down to Pho’s hands, bringing them up to kiss them. Pho smiles in his sleep and Brown can barely function, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around Pho and be picked up and never let back down, to feel the arms he feels so safe in under his thighs and the familiar breath on his neck. He doesn’t think he’s ever wanted, no, _needed_ someone’s touch so much. It wasn’t just about sex it was about intimacy, about companionship, the feeling of truly trusting someone with every single aspect of himself without fear of rejection.

Nobody could do it for him like Pho could.

_Ooh, do whatchu whatchu whatchu want, do whatchu want to me._ _  
Ooh, do whatchu whatchu whatchu want, do whatchu want to me._

 

It’s like Pho is always on the verge of saying something, but it’s never enough for him to just say it, he wants to mean it and to feel it. Brown is so close Pho wonders how he could even say the words without it seeming pointless, with each touch of Brown’s fingers on his back reminding him just how much he needed this, how much he wanted it. There should be a sense of power in this situation, being able to see the other person so vulnerable and so malleable to the touch, yet Pho feels like he’s the one that’s vulnerable and receptive to every single touch and stare. The club music thudding from beneath the bedroom is barely a whisper to Pho when Brown opens his mouth to tell him not to stop, that if he stops he’ll fucking kill him, Pho obliges and saves his words for later, wanting Brown to know that his is the only voice he cares about right now.

It was hardly a lie to Pho.

 

 _Underneath your salty skin,_ __  
Pressure has me lost again.  
Underneath your salty skin,  
You take all my oxygen.

 

In the morning, Pho finds it hard to even move a muscle, not wanting to disrupt anything. He had no intention of changing the way he stared at Brown and Brown seemed to enjoy it, lying on his side to face Pho, an inch from him. For once, Brown is the one to say nothing at all, staring intently and running the back of his hand down Pho’s cheek with crinkled eyes and a toothy grin.

“I love you.” Pho finally breathes again, putting his hand over Browns and kissing his palm, moving Brown’s hand over his chest.

Brown makes a choked noise, lunging forward and nuzzling his head against Pho’s neck, squeezing him as hard as he could, much to Pho’s amusement. He practically climbs on Pho, kissing all over his chest and neck before attacking his face.

“I fucking love you too.” He whines, draping himself over Pho like a clingy blanket. He shimmies around until he’s comfortable, squeezing Pho in the process and smiling.

Brown doesn’t think he was ever in any doubt as to who’s he was.

 

_Ooh, do whatchu whatchu whatchu want, do whatchu want to me._ _  
Ooh, do whatchu whatchu whatchu want, do whatchu want to me._

**Author's Note:**

> Short and sweet.


End file.
